


don't love an artist

by the_hot_voltron_yaoiz



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bring tissues, Death, M/M, Wow, angsty, be prepared to cry, klangst, oof
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 20:45:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13061814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_hot_voltron_yaoiz/pseuds/the_hot_voltron_yaoiz
Summary: Welcome to the diary of Lance McClain.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a friend](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=a+friend), [donny_q](https://archiveofourown.org/users/donny_q/gifts).



> oof this is b a d sorry for the feels, fellas

Dear Diary,   
I can't believe I'm actually writing in this thing right now…. Keith had bought it for me and begged me to write in it… I don't know why in the hell he thought I would… But I guess he was right. I just never had a way with the pencil like Keith did… I only ever could play the guitar.   
Damn Keith.. I can't go five seconds without thinking about him.. Fucking Keith….   
Whatever. I don't know what to write in here.. So I guess that's the end of this entry. I don't even know what I'm doing writing in this.   
Lance signing out. 

 

Dear Diary,   
I don't know why or how, but I found myself coming back to this damned notebook again. Today was uneventful. It may have been New Year's Eve, but I didn't do anything. Had nothing to do. The fireworks are just annoying at this point. Needless noise. Is it a crime for me to want to sleep? After this year from hell? I just need to gather my energy. I'll be back to normal soon. Why the fuck am I even trying to defend myself to a notebook? No one's going to hear this nor my thoughts! No one is here to do that. For fuck’s sake, I'm going insane. I blame it on this obnoxious array of sparks against the black sky that pop eternally. I just want it to be silent! Everything is dull as it is! Why not make it silent too?!   
Fuck you, Keith.   
Lance signing out.


	2. Chapter 2

Day 1  
Dear Diary,   
I shouldn't even be writing about this. This fucking notebook I swear.   
But I found this. I don't know how I never saw this before now. it's the first day of the new year. Keith would have had a field day with this. It was in a shoe box under the bed. It's a painting. Of me in a rose garden. This nightmare is never going to fucking end is it? I had woken up after staying awake enduring the noise from last night. And I was about to look for my shoes under the bed. And saw that shoe box that was never there before. I wanted to throw that painting out my window, to get it far, far from here. Instead I found myself placing it in the study room that would double as the work station.   
Why is this so hard? I didn't ask for any of this shit.   
Lance signing out.

 

Day 2  
Dear diary,   
Today had been a little more casual. I went out to get some groceries and new clothes. It was fine. Colder than Santa Claus’s butthole though, I'll tell you that. It is still winter time so I'm not surprised. I have no idea how I used to manage. It is all so fucking cold now. I had to wear like five layers of clothing. The snow is thick as shit though. Six inches I think it was. It was a long walk. Definitely not what I wanted. I grabbed some McDonald's on my home. Nuggets never fail me….   
It was an okay day. Until I found another fucking painting. This time it was of me sneaking up to throw a snowball at an unknown figure… it was hidden in my fucking cabinet of all places. Seriously, how is it there?   
It's ridiculous. Doesn't matter. I was two seconds away from ripping it to shreds. Again, I placed it in the study. I don't know what the hell is happening.   
I'm going fucking nuts.   
Lance signing out. 

 

Day 3   
Dear diary,   
This is so stupid. How was it hidden in my fucking pillow case?! It was a letter this time. But I decided to write about it as I read it.   
“Lance-  
M- My friends never liked you. I'm glad, because they were assholes anyway and it gave me a reason to ditch them.   
Y- Your family dog scared the literal shit out of me when I was in the bathroom. I was on the toilet, and he jumped out from behind the curtain covering the shower and I actually shit.   
A- Any food you made killed us both  
R- Remember when you broke your foot trying to ride a skateboard?   
T- Tears from you looked so beautiful. It was my favorite thing to draw. Only tears of joy though.   
I- I never imagined you would be any fun. At first glance you seemed like a major dick. Proved me wrong didn't you?   
S- Satisfying is what came to my mind when I thought of our home. Could have been better, but I did let you decorate so I'm not surprised.   
T- To impress you, I had to go through actual hell. Your friends were a tough crowd. Glad you have such good friends for you during your time though.   
My Artist, will always be you. “  
I don't know if I should be laughing or crying. This is going to be the worst year of my life. I've had enough for now. I don't need to deal with this bullshit.   
Lance signing out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dont question the formatting damn it


	3. Chapter 3

Day 4  
Dear Diary,   
It's quite late at night. You can't blame me! It's not my fault I have so many thoughts running through my head.   
Today, during lunch, a picture had fallen out of my vent. My fucking vent?! This is just the most insane shit I've ever seen. It was the picture of me when I tried teaching Keith how to take professional quality photos. I had been laughing because a news reporter had fallen on her ass on the TV and dumped her coffee on herself. I have to give Keith credit, the light filtering through the window really complimented the picture. On the back was a note that read, “That's my artist forever making poetry through his movements.”   
He's such a hopeless romantic. Makes me want to throw up.   
Once again, what the hell am I doing writing all of this down? I want to put this pen down. Get rid of it. Anything would do. It's like this pen is glued to my hand.   
Finally, I'm dozing off as I write this. I guess my thoughts put me to sleep. Have no idea how this works.   
Lance signing out.


	4. Chapter 4

Day 5  
Dear Diary,   
Everything is so different to me. Everything changed. I changed and I didn't even realize. I'm not the same boy I was five years ago.   
I've never felt so devoid of everything before. I'm an empty shell now. My humor has left me. I don't know what to do. Everything is just dull. This bland winter just seems cold and unforgiving. I used to love the winter. Everything used to be so vibrant and exciting.  
Keith….. Keith took it all away from me. He left me as this shell. He took away all the color from this world. He took away the happiness every day used to hold for me. I hate him for it. Yet, I hate myself for putting myself in this position.   
When we met 5 years ago, I was a fresh new photographer, right out of college. We met at a café in this city known as New York City. We made eye contact as I entered. He was sitting at a table with a book on the table, his bag next to him. His amethyst eyes captured my interest. I decided I would sit with him and make conversation. He seemed surprised and timid at first. I was chatting away, and made a joke which got a laugh from him. I froze when I heard it. It was the best thing I'd ever heard. That's the moment I fell. I fell for him hard. I just didn't know then. I decided I'd make him laugh more. And it went from there.   
Now, I can barely manage a few words to my best friend, Hunk. I don't see the point in anything.  
Keith didn't die, it seems like I did.   
Today's mystery item was the book he was reading when we met. A collection of poems by Edgar Allan Poe. With a note scrawled on the inside reading,   
“Lance-  
While Poe was quite the artist of his time, you're the artist of my time. The greatest poets or artists couldn't compare to you.   
Nothing can compare to you. You're the greatest artist there is.   
The way your blue eyes lit up as we talked that day, the way your lips curled up in a grin, your messy brown hair. All of it, was art. Art greater than any piece to exist.   
Keep being my artist  
\--Keith “  
I really hate him sometimes,actually all the time. I shouldn't let someone have this much emotional impact. One day I'll gather the courage to get over it. But not now. Not now and not any time soon.   
Lance signing out.


	5. Chapter 5

Day 6  
Dear Diary,  
The gray sky couldn't match my mood any better. I haven't done anything this year, yet I feel so exhausted. Everything takes so much of my energy. I'm just glad I don't have any job to return to soon. The money my grandma left me will get me through for a while. That and the money I've made from my pictures.  
I couldn't do anything even if I wanted to. I don't know how to feel anymore. Mad? Sad? Hopeless? Everything is so confusing to me. Nothing makes sense anymore…. Keith would have been able to help. But all he's doing right now is furthering my confusion.  
I was a hopeful boy when we met. Yet, I didn't have any self esteem. I only noticed everything wrong with myself. I was convinced I was the worst. When we started started dating, Keith was completely in love with everything I was and did. He saw me as some perfect artwork. Not to say I didn't love Keith just as much. But he practically worshiped me. I didn't want it at first. But he got to me. He filled the cracks in myself. He made all my faults and imperfections this beautiful thing.  
Today I got another artwork. It was of me asleep on the couch. It was the first time I spent the night at his house. I have now come to despise his talent to draw so realistically. He got it down to the very placement of my freckles.  
These memories are going to overwhelm me someday.  
Lance signing out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you guys want more! I have the chapters written, I just want to see if anyone likes it. Let me know! :}}


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It goes downhill from here :}

 

Day 7

  Dear diary, 

    I don't have very much to write about today. Nothing has happened. Nothing rarely does. My life has just become nothing. I don't know when this stage of my life will finally be over. 

   I don't know when I'll be able to remember these memories with actual feeling. I'm just numb. Even being numb is quite exhausting.

   I just want this to be a nightmare I wake up from and see Keith and his amethyst eyes looking at me fondly with a small smile playing on his lips. I want to wake up and hear his voice tease me and how much I sleep. And I want to be able to  _ laugh _ and peck his lips and tell him to shut up. Is that too much to ask? 

  I just want to be happy with him again. I want to go back go the days when we were happy and in love. When every day was an amazing experience. I just want my old life back. 

  I want to cry. I want to feel again. Maybe one of these days I'll sob… But right now, all I can do is sleep. 

  Today's item was a haiku. 

 “ _ Lance- _

_   You are my artist  _

_ Eyes so bright, my very light.  _

_  Better than all art.  _

__

_ You made me happy and in love, Lance. You were the greatest thing in my life. And I hope one day, a new chapter will start in your life.  _

_      Forever in love with my artist,  _

_        Keith. “ _

I don't even know how to react to this. I don't know anything anymore. This is getting hard and tiresome. 

 

   I'm lost. 

  Lance signing out. 


	7. Chapter 7

Day 8

  Dear diary, 

Today I found all the photos of us I took using our old Polaroid camera. 

  Tears. Something long lost on me. I want to feel tears dampen my checks. Land on the photos. Blur my vision so I won't have to see everything there is.  _ I want to drown in sorrow. Drown in emotion _ . I can't find myself feeling anything anymore.

  I want to feel. Then, I'd be able to know how to begin to pick up my pieces. It seems I won't be doing that anytime soon. 

 I'd much rather drown than be lost at sea like this. Aimlessly drifting… No sign of life visible. 

__ **_Loving someone means losing yourself in them._ **

  Lance signing out. 


	8. Chapter 8

Day 9

  In my state yesterday, I forgot to write about what I got. So today's two items. 

   I had found a drawing of me asleep on Keith’s chest. It was after our fourteenth date and I was too tired to go home. Keith and I laid on his couch and his warmth lulled me to a comfortable sleep. 

  It's cold now. The drawing is in black and white, as if Keith can tell it's colorless without him. 

_ Everything around me, everything in this house, is colder than the blazing winter outside these walls.  _

  How long is it going to take for me to feel? I always wonder if I'm some monster for not crying. I want to cry, but my eyes remain dry. I can barely do anything.  I want to get a hold of what my life has become. It shouldn't be this hard. Why is it taking so much to get me to cry? 

The item I got today was a poem he had written for me. I couldn't read it, because the words had been blurred. If I knew any better,then I knew it was Keith’s tears. I could only make out a few words as everything was really blurred. I only saw  _ ocean in you, blue, complex, happily drowning in this feeling,I got dragged into your soul,  _ and  _ everyday my love for you grew more fierce.  _ There was a note at the end of it reading, “ _ You pulled me in and I found it hard to struggle against. It was stronger than an oncoming tide. Your heart holds all the power of the ocean and I let you drown me. I can tell you were just as pulled to me as I was to you. And I hope you don't forget that pull, but can maybe one day use your ocean to drown someone new. Keep painting pictures of the ocean, my love. - Keith” _

  I never quite knew how love worked before Keith. Keith was the most considerate and reserved person I knew. He let few into his heart, and I was lucky and grateful to have been allowed in. I just sometimes wonder if it was a mistake venturing into that emotional cavern and if this could have been different if I didn't give in. 

_ Keith already drowned in emotion, I can only hope I can do the same soon.  _

   Lance signing out. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to clarify that while what experience Lance is going through is not something I have went through personally, many undertones (especially the emotions Lance portrays) are copies of events in my life.

Day 10

  Dear diary, 

Today was interesting. That's a first for this year. I listened to music for the first time since his death. It doesn't sound like it used to, but, I finally have sound in my life. It scares me and makes me the tiniest bit hopeful. If even just a sliver. 

 Scared because I worry if I hear anything else, I'll forget his voice and never hear it again. Hopeful because maybe if I forget, it'll be easier to move on. 

 The music kind of helped. I could've sworn I felt sadness as I stared out the window to the New York skyline. I felt a faint pang of sadness in my heart as the memories flooded through my head. I swear I felt it. If feeling wasn't my problem to begin with, I'm sure I would have cried in relief.

 The music was mellow and wordless, but it suited me just fine. I didn't want to hear a voice that wasn't Keith’s anyways. Keith would have laughed and teased me saying something like, “Who's the emo now, Lance? “

  What I wouldn't give to hear his voice again… 

  The snow hadn't let up yet. Still in the dead of winter. You'd think that since I've been in New York so long, I'd get used to it, but it seems colder than it used to be. Everything is so, so much colder. 

  Cereal seems to be the thing I've been eating most frequently lately. I remember being horrified when I found out Keith poured his milk before his cereal. I threatened to break up with him then, because he must have been insane. He just rolled his eyes and ate his cereal. But come on, only crazy people do that! I also remember when he  _ poured milk on my phone _ and I had to resist the urge to grab a knife. Of course, it was hard to remain mad at him when he repeatedly apologized and looked as sad as an abandoned puppy. 

 It was always unfairly hard to remain mad at those eyes. He could have convinced me to do anything with just a look. 

  I'm going on again… I need to stop doing that. 

    Today's item was another piece of art. It was small, the size of a postcard. It was in fact, a drawing of me holding a dripping phone with the kitchen and every little detail there is. 

  I don't know how my life is supposed to work anymore. I struggle to write this because I don't know what my mind is thinking. It’s challenging to rummage through my mind and try to organize my jumble of thoughts. This whole thing is very confusing.

 I'm not sure how I feel about music, or anything for that matter. 

  Lance signing out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to make these chapters as authentic as possible. I wrote many of these at a particularly emotionally vulnerable moment in my life. Please let me know how it's turning out! Ask for more and you shall receive!


End file.
